


Wonderstruck

by nathynoir313



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Never Met, Can’t handle their adorableness, Drabble!, F/M, Fluff, Had way too much fun writing this, I love them way too much, Itty-bitty Angst, THEY DESERVE TO BE HAPPY!, Warm Comebacks, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Wonderstruck, Years apart, first drabble I’ve ever written, just a little though, just real fluff, love to write about them, never met as civilians, sunset vibes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 02:30:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14967182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nathynoir313/pseuds/nathynoir313
Summary: It was her first dance ever since her High School days.She felt uncertain, insecure and dislodged. Why did she say yes to that invitation was beyond her own understanding._“Warm comebacks”_ said the creamy and fancy piece of paper.





	Wonderstruck

It was her first dance ever since her High School days.  
She felt uncertain, insecure and dislodged. Why did she say yes to that invitation was beyond her own understanding.  
_ _“Warm comebacks”_ _ said the creamy and fancy piece of paper. It had been so long... it was a fleeting sensation of nostalgia and... _saudade_ that convinced her to confirm her attendance. She was fond of that Brazilian word in particular. Her mother loved to learn meaningful words from different languages, so she knew a few herself. _Saudade_. It meant the precise feeling and sensation of missing someone, or something you care for dearly. And it described Marinette’s heart’s feelings upon receiving the invite... and the hoping things would perhaps be... special.

The huge ballroom was quite intimidating if she was being honest. But surprisingly, the decorations tried to diminish that sensation to some minor degree.  
The lights were soft, giving off a smooth shade of fading sunset. There were beautiful creamy and pearly colored curtains draped up all around the place, covering the walls delicately and reflecting the soft glow of the lighting. The gracious and monumental chandelier had its crystals shining on beautiful shades of soft orange, yellow, pink and purple, creating a kaleidoscope of colors on the ceiling and floor, as if they were experiencing the end of a Parisian afternoon, but a crafted one of the sort.

Although the environment was meant to be comfy, warm and pleasant, the guests were giving off the opposite impression on the atmosphere of the event.The people were gathered in groups, having small talks, laughing politely, with smiles too big or too tight to be sincere. The staring was judgmental, critical and sharp, ready to point out failure. The gowns were too bright, too sparkly, they lacked the delicacy of the event’s proposition, more fitting for a night formal event, if she could say so.

Marinette stared down to her own piece of clothing. A long sleeved, pale pink colored gown. Topped with flower shaped embroidered pieces of lace, with only the smallest finishing touches done with beads to give it texture. The flow of the skirt was light, only a thin layer of pale pink silk topping the bottom layer, allowing it to swing softly while she walked, but not being too puffy, with just enough of the classy and elegant amount of volume. It was designed to bring the sweetest breath of spring to memory.

The woman grew to love the detailed art of creating garments. Party gowns were her favorite. She was fascinated by how different the occasions of formal dressing could be, and she marveled on the prospect of creating the ideal look for specific scenarios. It made the person wearing it portray some sort of meaning through their look.

Many understood that concept as futile, but she saw it as a way of valuing those types of situation with a thoughtful approach to it. So she intended to dress up to the dance, but not too much. It wasn’t a wedding, nor a graduation party, or an award acceptance ceremony.

Of course she didn’t craft a dress for every occasion she had to dress up to, that just wasn’t practical nor necessary. She only did it to the rare events in which she felt that the mood of the event really reflected on the clothing she was going to wear. If that made any sense to anyone but her. Checking her surroundings, it appeared she was the only one who thought that way.

Her half up half down updo , sorta like Belle’s from the Disney movie animation, was not as fancy as the braided and elaborated hairdos the other women were wearing. But she was fine with that.

Disappointment filled her. Letting out a sigh, she just walked, trying not to let her shoulders hunch like she used to do as a teenager. Taking a final look around at the groups of people in artificial bubbles of conversation, she pitied the beautiful decoration that didn’t fulfill its purpose.

Heading towards the furthest table, apart from the other guests to sit down, her eyes got caught by a figure standing in the corner of the ballroom, away from the groups of guests. Intrigued, she regarded the man on the other side of the room.

He was tall, lean, but muscular, had blond hair combed neatly, but with a rebellious twist as well. Seriously, the guy was a walking paradox. But... she was impressed. He wasn’t wearing the expensive tuxes the other mean were so proudly showing off.

He seemed a bit tense, and almost as uncomfortable as she felt. Dressed in designer clothes , she could definitely see the perfect fit, the flow of the suit, the perfect cut. But he looked casual as well. Like he didn’t want to be someone he really wasn’t. When she was going to analyze his face, the shade of green met her bluebell eyes.

_Whoops... I got caught._

Marinette tried to control her flush, but couldn’t turn away. The gaze was intense, curiously almost like a cat.

She laughed to herself. Allowing a little smile o adorn her features. The green eyed man stared back at her, with a small smile of his own. Then his brow creased, and he questioned with his look, tilting his head to the side.

_Have we met before?_

Allowing a bigger smile, she crossed the distance to the other side of the room, ready to answer to the man’s question.

“I don’t think so, we haven’t.”

Green eyes wide, the man seemed surprised.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Your question? If we had met before. I was wondering about that too, but I don’t think we have.”

“Oh...was I that obvious?”

“What do you mea- “ Marinette caught herself mid sentence, realizing that he had never voiced that question. She just thought...

“Oh my goodness, I’m so so-“

“How did you know?” She stared up at the man, smiling curiously at her, eyes searching, but not knowing what exactly he was looking for.

She stopped trying to apologize and looked at him. Finally understanding his curiosity, and getting curious herself.

“I’m... not sure. I guess when I looked at you, you seemed to be thinking that. Your eyes gave you away.”

“Wow. You’re good at reading people.”

“Actually, I’ve only had one friend I could ever read that well, and I haven’t seen him in years. That’s so strange!”

“Well, I’ve only had one friend who could read me so well too. But we also lost touch years ago.”

There was a moment of sad, heavy silence, until Marinette decided to put the hurt she so carefully had hidden in her heart, away for that moment.

“So...I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

The green eyes that were getting foggy with thoughts cleared up, and the man opened up a bright smile.

“Are you kidding? Oh my goodness! I love that bakery! Is it yours?”

Marinette laughed. Isn’t it a small world?

“Actually, it’s my parents’, Mr.....”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Adrien Agreste. “

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Agreste.”

She reached out her hand in a fist bump, before actually realizing what she was doing, and lacking the understanding on why she was doing that, quickly changing it to an outstretched hand. She was looking down, but at Adrien Agreste’s reluctance on shaking her hand, she looked back up, only to find a really surprised, lost and found,and fond look on his face.

Adrien’s mind seemed to be making thousands of connections, gathering pieces of past memories and joining them together. The fist bump. A gesture he had seen and met with his own fist not once, but hundreds of times throughout the years, until...

_Until they won. After that, their kwamis told them they were supposed to carry on with their lives. That they couldn’t reveal their civilian identities to the other._

_They had spent years being partners, best friends... nearly lovers, but at that time, it just wasn’t meant to be. There was nothing they could do to change it._

_Their last hug was filled with sorrow, arms tight around the other, clinging to the moment as if that would stop the future they’d have to face. Without the other. Without the other whole. The other equal. But it was also filled with gratitude._

_The bittersweetness of it all was overwhelming, but they tried to immortalize by heart everything about each other._

_When it was time to go, they each held to the other’s hand, tear streaked face, until the moment they had to turn, and leave the other for good._

Until that night. Until that women that he had just met crossed the room, met his gaze, read his thoughts, and offered him a fist, for a fist bump. The gesture seemed like instinct for her, and when the woman, whose name she said was Marinette, noticed what she was doing, she let her head fall, eyes looking down, hand now outstretched. Always trying to fix broken things. Even subconsciously. Oh, if she knew.

Realizing he wasn’t shaking her hand, she finally looked up, a questioning look, not understanding the various emotions filling his expression.

Adrien regained his composure ( partially at least ), and took her hand in both of his, rolling her fingers back into a fist bump, meeting her fist with his own.  
Marinette kept looking at his hands during the entire move, and then when their fists joined in a swift bump...

She looked up, looking...wonderstruck.

“I found you.”

Proceeding to take his hand in both of hers and kissing the back of his hand lightly, she looked up at him, eyes filled with tears, a smile so familiar his heart clenched in pure love and joy.

“I can’t believe I found you.”

She let go of his hands, involving him in a tight and warm embrace, her arms tightly wrapped around his torso. He hesitated barely an instant before hugging her back, relief and happiness feeling his very soul, head resting on top of hers.

She was still small, and he was even taller than he used to be years before.

They were different, but yet the same.

He whispered to her ear, in ways they’d done in past occasions, sharing secrets, thoughts, and feelings.

“I missed you so much. Everyday, since the last time I saw you.”

“I missed you too. I was so scared I could never find you again.” She replied in the same volume, breath tickling on his neck.

Trembling slightly, he couldn’t tell if it was him or her or both of them, he held her closer to him. She had something else to say.

“I never got the chance to tell you how much I love you. “

She looked up at him with a watery smile, sadness still lingering on her face. Adrien felt like a teenager all over again, his heart filled with so much happiness he didn’t know if it could still fit inside his chest. Drying her tears carefully with his thumb, which also trembled,Adrien cupped both sides of her face with his quivering hands.

“You can tell me now.” He said, voice shaking slightly.

“I love you, Chat.”

His forehead met hers when he closed his eyes solemnly to reply.

“I love you too, My Lady.”

It was indeed the warmest comeback that either of them could ever ask for.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! This was my first Drabble ever, and I just loved writing it!! Love these characters a lot! I’m on tumblr on the blog A Cat Who Loves Books! If you can leave a kudo or comment, it will be highly appreciated! :)  
> Thank you so much for reading.


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